


Wanted

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Power Imbalance, Rough Oral Sex, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:54:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25328884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He had wanted to make Qui-Gon angry. Visions of his master abandoning him haunted him. A humilation at dusk, high in the council chambers, replaced for some unseen other. But now, trapped under his masters burning gaze, he wasn't so sure.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Character(s), Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 86





	Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a healthy master/padawan relationship. Please check the warnings before continuing! Love yourselves.

This was not a good place to be. The club lights overwhelmed Obi-wan's vision as his head throbbed sharply with from master's anger. He could feel him approaching from the temple, still murky with sleep but sparking at his padawan's behaviour.

 _Obi-Wan, what are you doing?_ Qui-Gon's voice thundered in his mind, reverberating with the deep bass of the music.

Obi-Wan threw back another shot with a wince. _Leave me be master, I am a senior padawan, I can spend my nights as I wish._ A wave of indignation was his only reply.

A tall, purple Twi'lek slid in next to him at the bar, smirking behind a glass of dazzling blue liquid, their eyes alight with interest. The stranger wordlessly appraised the young Jedi, taking in the plain robes and alcohol flushed face with a quirked brow. Obi-Wan did the same in turn, eyeing the lean strength of them.

 _Not enough_ , something in him whispered, and he crushed the thought down. Removing the stranger of their drink, he reached up to press their mouths together. The stranger startled at his abruptness, but quickly recovered, capturing Obi-Wan's slim hips in a bruising grip, turning their face down to taste him.

A mix of alcohol and drug addled life forces marred his senses, allowing his mind to drift as the Twi'lek pulled him away from the bustling bar to a darker corner of the club. A dangerous feeling, not his own, boiled along the training bond as his own arousal climbed. He allowed the stranger to shove apart his tabards to suck hot bruises along his collarbone. Obi-Wan could feel his master close. A thrill shot through him, sobering momenterially with the spike in adrenaline. _What was he doing?_

A large, battle callused hand gripped the purple stranger's shoulder before they were ripped away with a shout, barely audible over the blaring music. Obi-Wan's upper arm was grasped painfully and he was dragged, stumbling through the crowd to the exit. The stranger was left stunned in the wake of the older Jedi's temper.

"What do you think you're doing?" Qui-Gon growled as he pulled the disheveled padawan out of the club and into a dimly lit side alley. The extend of his misbehavior registered in Obi-Wan's fuzzy mind at the sound of his master's actual fury.

"I-" he slurred, falling back against a grimy wall as he was released.

"Do you understand what it was like waking without you, our bond weak like you had been taken from me?" Obi-Wan pressed further back as the larger man crowded his space. His master could no doubt smell the spirits on his breath, the lingering spit of the stranger on his skin.

"And then I find you," large hands toyed with his open tabards, "...flaunting yourself with somebody else."

Obiwan sputtered for an explanation that he could not articulate through the cloud of his mind. He had wanted to make Qui-Gon angry. Visions of his master abandoning him haunted him. A humilation at dusk, high in the council chambers, replaced for some unseen other. He wanted to be taken explicitly, to be fought for. He wanted to establish some twisted form of control. But now, trapped under his masters burning gaze, he wasn't so sure. He could hardly recall his exact motivations as he had fled their quaters, woken by another sickening premonition of betrayal.

He felt his master's force presence flare brightly before reining in, scarcely controlled. Obiwan could barely met his eyes. "I have been to lax with you, my harlot padawan. Very well, if you're so keen on disgracing yourself..." Qui Gon leaned back, hands shifting down to free himself from his breeches. "On your knees."

Obi-Wan gaped, a protest on his tongue before his cheek was alight from a hard slap. He sucked in a gasp, foggy mind crystallizing in fear. " _Now_." Qui-Gon's firm voice rang with absolute authority. Obi-Wan collapsed to his knees, legs practically giving out in the shock, one hand pressed to his reddening cheekbone. His master had never hit him before.

Before he knew it, Qui-Gon's hard cock was in front of him, a hand tightening painfully in his hair. Obi-Wan was pressed against the cold alley wall, chocking back a gag as his master slid deep into his throat. Panic seized him and he thrashed, hands hitting out in a desperate need for air. His wrists were captured in an unrelenting, one handed grip, and hips thrust forward, completely immobilizing his twisting head. His scream a voiceles gurgle against the impossible thickness in his throat.

"Quiet," a deep voice growled, as black spots began to dance accross his vision. Tears burned hot down his cheeks as he slumped, weakness overtaking his alarm. His master aparently satisfied, Obi-Wan's airway was freed, the girth of the cock pulling out of his throat with a lurching pop. He gasped frantically, but was too frozen to twist away from the remaining length that sat heavy on his tongue.

"Good boy," the voice praised, and a large thumb traced his stretched, lower lip. He whimpered, a strange joy rising in him to meet his fear.

"I'm going to let your hands go now, but I'm warning you, if you struggle, I'll hurt you. Do you understand?" Obi-Wan shivered, another tear rolling down his cheek as he nodded, vision blurring into the dizzying light of Coruscant traffic above. As promised, his wrists were released and he let them fall uselessly to his sides.

Hands gripped his hair and the girth pressed forward again. Obi-Wan tensed uncontrollably, a gag reaching from within him as he was once again without air. But as quickly as it happened, he could breathe again. Qui-Gon began fucking his face in earnest.

Fluid dribbled down Obi-Wan's chin and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying in vain to block out the wet sound of his submission. His braid was yanked painfully in reprimand, and once again his vision was flooded with light.

He struggled to time his breaths with the pistoning of his master's cock and his chest tightened, hands curling into fists. He sobbed then, and retched with a particularly brutal thrust. The voice above him groaned. It was too much. Unable to stop himself, his hands reached up to grasp pathetically at his masters tabards, mental voice crying a desperate apology through the training bond.

Abruptly, his master thrust deep down his throat and came, hands twisting in his hair, hips stuttering, his satisfaction oozing through their bond. Obi-Wan was faint when his mouth was finally emptied, damp skin exposed to the chilly night air. He fell forward at the shock of it, coughing, shaky limbs still live with panic.

His hands covered his face, both to block out the sudden brightness, and to conceal the painful shame rising in him as his master knelt in front of him. _You're weak. How could you ever be worthy of being his padawan if you can't even take this one punishment with grace? He will leave you, you've seen it._

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked, voice still rough with arousal, hand reaching but not quite touching his knee. Overwhelmed, Obi-Wan heaved a sob, unable to form words. His breathing hitched as Qui-Gon pulled him into an embrace. Obi-Wan's hands pulled at the long, dark hair suddenly within reach, muffling his distress against the comfort of his master's solid chest. A strong heartbeat thudded against his cheek, an overpowering force presence smothering out all else. Desperate gasps quieted until finally ceasing.

" _I'm sorry_ ," Obi-Wan began, voice scratchy, and his master's arms tightened around him. "I don't know what I was thinking..."

"No," Qui-Gon interrupted, "we will discuss this back at the temple, padawan. Never do that to me again." Obi-Wan nodded mutely, somehow exhausted as a possessive kiss was pressed to his forehead.

Qui-Gon leaned back and cleaned off his face gently with the edge of his robe, causing a sleepy blush to rise in Obi-Wans cheeks at the mess. He was lifted into his masters powerful arms as sleep began to claim him.

"Rest now, Obi-Wan. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." Qui-Gon peered down at him, and Obi-Wan, falling into slumber, could've sworn he saw his masters eyes catch in the alley light a bright, blazing yellow.


End file.
